


i would give all this (and heaven too)

by wardo_wedidit



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Anxiety, Class Differences, Cruise Ships, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, New Planets, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-12 20:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19236214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wardo_wedidit/pseuds/wardo_wedidit
Summary: "It sounds ridiculous to think when they’re literally on a spaceship, but David dresses like he’s from the future. It’s the first thing Patrick notices."Or, Patrick wins a ticket onto the first civilian voyage to populate New Earth, and he's determined to face his fears and change his life. The one thing he didn't plan on was David Rose.





	i would give all this (and heaven too)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leupagus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leupagus/gifts).



> Other summaries I rejected include "Titanic meets WALL-E (minus the shipwrecks and fatphobia, respectively)" and "The Dynamic in Space." 
> 
> This is very different from anything I've written before! It was definitely a prompt I knew would be a challenge, but I hope everyone enjoys it. Thank you to [Em](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingmywaydoll/pseuds/goingmywaydoll) for being the best in every way, including proofing this even though she literally graduated from college a few days later and had much better things to do. And thank you to everyone who listened to all my worries about writing this and talked me off the ledge multiple times! Couldn't have done it without you.
> 
> Title from [Florence + The Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gs5KqERhqZ0).

//

_i remember the time / and i remember the place / but i don’t remember the lines / i don’t know what to say / and i’ve been there before but i don’t know the way to go home_

//

It sounds ridiculous to think when they’re literally on a spaceship, but David dresses like he’s from the future. It’s the first thing Patrick notices.

David and his mother both do, actually. His sister—Alexis, Patrick learns through the constant whirlwind of gossip that follows the Roses around—seems to purposefully favor a retro look, dainty dresses and light, pretty things. Their father is all classic formal wear, sharp tailoring and stiff suits.

But David is invariably in black and white, always managing to look structured but soft, fashion forward but exquisitely himself, effortless, and Patrick doesn’t know why it makes him smile. Even from afar he seems like a bundle of contradictions, and when he sees him, Patrick can’t take his eyes off him for some reason.

He thinks David catches his gaze a couple times, after he’s stared just a beat too long from across the room. He always looks away quickly, willing his cheeks not to flush, but David always looks…slightly amused, when he manages to look again. Mouth quirked up just a little, like he’s fighting a smile. Patrick doesn’t know why it makes his stomach swoop with something akin to anticipation.

 

//

The Roses fit more naturally than Patrick does on the _SS Demeter,_ which is the first civilian luxury liner tasked with delivering inhabitants to New Earth. Scientists, engineers, and agriculturalists have prepared the planet for decades, and finally declared it fit for long-term human life. Tickets sold out in mere minutes as Earth’s wealthiest bid to escape to the stars, to a fresh new world.

It seems right to him that they should be here. The whole family was on the tabloids when he was growing up, and Patrick remembers standing in line at the grocery store and looking at their pictures, wondering about the boy who didn’t look much older than him. He didn’t know why they were rich and famous until years later, when he learned that Johnny Rose was responsible for developing the technology that successfully implemented the video component into automated feed implants.

(When Patrick was really little, only important people like doctors and politicians had automated feeds. Now it’s nearly universal. He’s seen kids on the ship as young as five running around with them, pupils flicking across something invisible in front of them, faces slack. It makes him feel uneasy, grateful he grew up in a house where it was a much-longed for fifteenth birthday present.)

Anyway, between that and Moira’s ten year run on the first soap opera exclusively streamed through the feed, Patrick has no concept of how much money the Roses have. He does know it is at least enough to buy themselves the grandest passage off Earth that’s currently possible.

Patrick, on the other hand, had won his ticket. The CEO of his company had managed to snag one single fare. Rumor says he’d intended to go himself, but at 84, his doctors declared him unfit for a six-month space voyage. So, as a result, any employee was welcome to enter the drawing and try their luck, all expenses paid. Patrick had broken up with his on-again, off-again, long term girlfriend Rachel the day before they announced the contest. It had popped up in his feed that morning, dancing and lighting up obnoxiously, and he’d almost flicked it away with his eyes before he read the text. _Your New Life Awaits!_

And he’d thought, _fuck it._

He never imagined he’d win. One impulse decision, and now his whole world was about to change.

Except that so far, it hasn’t.

Patrick feels out of place on _Demeter_. Everyone else on this ship has clearly led a charmed life, looks and acts the part of a natural fit in her sleek, expensive settings. Patrick feels like everything about him sticks out like a sore thumb: his clothes, his demeanor, just, everything.

He knows he needs to get out there, to start making some friends, or it’ll be a long six months. It’ll be the long rest of his life, actually, come to that. He’s moving to an entirely different goddamn planet; he can’t let himself get stuck in a rut again. It’s a fresh start and he’s wasting it, and why can’t he just be _happy_ , and—

Patrick holds in the sensor on his wrist, powering down his feed. This happens sometimes, he’ll get too in his head and spin out just from his own thoughts, and when it does, the last thing he needs is the never-ending scroll of information constantly whirring in front of his eyes, implanted in his brain.

He takes a deep breath, sweeping over the button on his headboard that dims the cabin lights. He just feels so angry at himself, sometimes. He wants to be a happy person, so why can’t he just…do it? Why can’t he just be happy? And if he can’t be that here, where every luxury imaginable is available to him, where can he?

But he’s determined, he thinks as he starts to drift off. He’s going to reboot his life, and he’s going to make it what he wants this time.

He still doesn’t have a single idea what that looks like, but he’s going to find out.

 

//

Ever since he was younger, Patrick’s instinct when he couldn’t deal with things was to overprepare. He would always set out his clothes the first day of his new job, and his mother used to tell him the night before he started school he would test every pen and pencil he had over and over again. Before boarding _Demeter_ , he’d made ten different spreadsheets about what to do with all his possessions. And now, he’s on a spaceship sailing away to a brand new life, and he’s handling it by spending every second possible in the library learning about the ins and outs of this new planet.

Patrick’s noticed an interesting approach to design on the ship. The passenger cabins, hallways, and cafeteria are all styled to be slick and modern, but the large amenities rooms have an entirely different feel, like something out of another time. The library reminds him of something out of a storybook, with high ladders on wheels and dark wash shelves.

Most of the collection is actually digital. Anyone can put in a request via their feed and have the files pinged to them immediately. And as convenient as that is, Patrick prefers to pore over the physical material they have out for browsing. The section of information on New Earth is pretty large and centrally located, and Patrick spends plenty of time pulling book after book, looking at pictures of landscapes and reading about all the work that had to happen to make their current journey possible. Everyone who sacrificed to make the planet livable.

He’s reaching for a book one day when his hand brushes someone else’s. Patrick startles, jumps back immediately to apologize, and finds himself standing across from none other than David Rose.

“Oh, sorry,” he stutters, going to pull the book again and offering it to David. It’s a slim volume about the construction and operation of _Demeter_.

“No, no. Um, it’s fine. You take it,” David tries, his voice barely above a whisper. He looks kind of…embarrassed, actually, which Patrick finds kind of interesting.

He laughs. “No, really. I’ve read it a couple of times before. It’s a good one, really informative.”

“Oh,” David says softly, finally reaching forward and taking it with tentative hands. “Well, um. Thank you, then. That’s. That’s good to know.” His mouth twists to one side as he looks down at it, flipping through the pages quickly.

Patrick extends his hand. “Patrick Brewer, by the way.”

David takes it. He has a firm handshake, but his skin is soft. “David Rose.”

Patrick’s lips tip up into an instinctual smile. He can’t help it, he finds it cute that David would feel the need to introduce himself when he’s one of the most famous people on the ship. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

David shakes his head, squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them again. “No, sorry, I just. Just learning more about the ship makes me feel less like we’re hurtling through infinity in a tin can at light speed? So.”

The smile is becoming a grin now, and this is bad. David is going to think he’s a crazy person. “Well, that should help you, then. Just, maybe skip chapter three? Which lists all the different types of metal the ship is made out of.”

David winces. “And tin is one of them?”

A laugh bubbles out of Patrick before he can stop it.

 

//

Patrick feels silly doing it, but he starts going to the library specifically in the afternoons in hopes he might run into David. He can’t put his finger on what it is about him that’s fascinating, but he does know that talking to David the other day is maybe the first time he’s laughed since leaving Earth.

They see each other around there a few times and make a habit of casually waving at one another when they do. One day the library is especially busy, so David ends up sitting across from him. Patrick’s reading about the environmentally positive living quarters, and he peeks to see that David has a thick biography on Alexander McQueen. Patrick bites his lip, resists kicking at David’s ankles under the table and settles on sending a message down the feed instead.

 _Gave up on aerospace engineering?_ he asks, and he knows when David gets the message because he smirks a little bit, even though he tries to hide it. He feels himself holding his breath for David’s response.

 _I conquered it, actually, so I had to move on,_ David sends back.

Patrick feels himself chuckle softly, sees David’s expression soften out of the corner of his eye at the sound.

He catches a glimpse of him once on the observation deck. Patrick almost goes up to him to make a joke, something along the lines of _This doesn’t seem like the best place for someone with a fear of space travel,_ but stops himself. There’s something private but also unguarded about the way he’s sitting, criss-cross on the floor while other people lounge around in big fancy chairs. The lights of the galaxy reflect on his features, casting them blue and then yellow and then pink, and his eyes are big and his mouth is soft, lips tilted into what is simultaneously the most fragile smile Patrick’s ever seen, but also the largest one he’s ever seen on David.

He doesn’t want to interrupt the moment. Instead, he takes a mental picture and files it away. For what, he doesn’t know.

He still sees David eating with his family in the cafeteria in the mornings for breakfast, though he’s never seen them there for any other meals. They don’t wave at each other then, really—Patrick doesn’t mind; it’s often before coffee and he doesn’t want to make a bad impression. But sometimes they do catch each other’s eye, and if it’s near the end of the meal, David will smirk at him a little bit, and Patrick will smile helplessly back.

These small interactions take up more of Patrick’s brain space than they probably should, but then again, he spends more time thinking about David than he probably should. He doesn’t know why he finds him so intriguing, why he spends time wondering where David is and what he’s doing, on a ship full of thousands of other strangers. It’s probably creepy, the fact that parts of his day are lost to idle wonderings about what David’s routine looks like, but he can’t make himself stop, either.

Which is why he’s surprised one evening, when he arrives in the cafeteria for dinner, to see David at a table by himself.

He nearly stops short in the automated door, which beeps impatiently at him to get out of the way. He does, stumbling and anything but smooth, but at least when David looks up at him he has it together in time to raise an awkward hand in greeting. David does the same, mouth quirked up in the ghost of a smile, and a message comes down his feed.

_Want to join me?_

Patrick very much does.

“Hey,” Patrick lets out on a deep breath as he sits across from David, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

“Hi,” David says back, soft, and he has this way of speaking around a smile but also not-quite smiling, and it makes Patrick’s insides go kind of giddy. It’s ridiculous. He barely knows him.

“Where’s your family?” he asks, because he’s only ever seen them here together.

David rolls his eyes but Patrick can tell it’s a little bit fond. “They only eat at the five-star establishments in the evening. I just… wanted a change,” he says, gaze breaking away on the last word to thumb through the menu lit up on his place setting, flicking through the options. The way he says _change_ feels familiar; Patrick feels it in his gut. “What’s good here, for dinner?”

“Nothing,” Patrick replies, and again, he’s speaking before he thinks, and he’s gotta get a handle on this. David’s eyes flick up at him, teasingly interested.

“Nothing?”

Patrick winces. “I know. Steer away from the specials; they’re usually even more suspicious.”

David makes a face. A picky kind of face, which makes Patrick want to laugh again. “Enjoying slumming it, huh?” he teases instead, and David’s mouth twists pleasantly.

“It’s not so bad,” he murmurs, directing it down at the menu, and Patrick feels his breath catch. He wants to cut in and agree, but he’s still getting a feel for David, wants to see what might happen if he waits him out.

“I don’t—I don’t really have a lot of friends here,” David says, still mumbling a little bit as he scrolls through the salad options. “Or know…many people. I’m not especially close with my parents, and my sister is…anyway.”

He looks up at Patrick then, and they’re not complete thoughts, really, any of them. But apparently, if you wait out David Rose—who has been on the cover of tabloids and walked red carpets and grinned charming smiles on TV shows, who somehow doesn’t have any friends here—you get hesitant but heartfelt confessions.

“I don’t either,” Patrick says, kind of blankly and quietly, because he’s still processing this. He’s kind of stunned, honestly. “I don’t have any friends here either. Is that—is that what you’re saying, that you want to be friends?”

David nods, kind of jerky but sure, and Patrick feels a slow smile bloom over his face.

“Okay,” he says, and just like that, they are.

Amazingly, things flow surprisingly naturally after that, like a simple moment of vulnerability could open them up. This doesn’t usually happen for Patrick. He’s a chill guy, sure, and he gets along with people, but somehow between just their small interactions and a little bit of teasing they seemed to have formed a give and take. A connection. It helps that Patrick’s interested in basically anything David has to say, and David seems equally interested in Patrick, though he tries to hide it more.

But it doesn’t matter, because he’ll happily volunteer anything that David wants to know. He figures it’s only fair, for all the questions he wants to ask.

By the time dessert arrives, they’ve talked through food and books and how they find space travel, and finally, when David’s halfway through his chocolate ganache tart, Patrick gets around to asking what brings them all to New Earth.

“Well, my parents think it’s a good business opportunity,” David says. “My dad can’t _wait_ to start the first large-scale retail chain on a new planet. And my sister, she’s always zipped around from continent to continent, trying to get herself killed, so of course, she’d want to see what kind of trouble she can attract on a new planet.” He rolls his eyes but Patrick can tell it’s a front, can hear in his voice how deeply he cares for her.

“What about you?” he asks, because David was the whole reason he asked in the first place.

David looks uncomfortable, shrugs. “Just looking for a fresh start, I guess,” he says, like he’s hiding behind the words. And Patrick doesn’t know why but he’s desperate to know more, feels hungry for any morsel of information he’s willing to give. David makes a self-deprecating face. “Not the first one I’ve bought, but definitely the most expensive.”

Patrick grins, feeling grateful and kind of stupidly happy to have something in common, even if it’s the desire to run away from Earth. “Me too. I mean, I didn’t buy it, I won it. But, yeah. Fresh start.” He ducks his head a little, but still can’t resist looking at David from under his lashes.

There’s a beat of stunned silence before David speaks again. His face is surprised but open, something unreadable lingering there that Patrick can’t put his finger on. “You _won_ it?”

“Yeah,” Patrick says, squirming a little. “I’m just, I’m—” _not like you_ , his brain supplies, but that sounds horrible and judgemental, and that’s not how he means it anyway. “I’m not used to all this,” he finishes helplessly. He’s sure his face is lost, when he looks back up at David.

A smile is trying to make its way onto David’s face, though he seems determined to fight it every step of the way. He seems intrigued though, and Patrick takes that as a good sign. “I—yeah. It can be a lot. The parties and the adventure courses and the spas and…” he trails off, squinting slightly at Patrick. “What?”

Patrick needs to get a better poker face. “I haven’t actually done much,” he says, almost apologetically. “I’ve mostly… kept to myself.”

David’s gaping at him now, openly, but he also looks amused and Patrick tries _so hard_ not to flush at being looked at this way. By David. “We’ve been on this ship for a month and a half and you haven’t done anything? How have you not died from boredom?”

A laugh startles out of him, though he still feels a little bit shy suddenly. “I don’t know, I don’t wanna look like, out of place or something,” he tries. _I’m not like you_ vibrates through his brain but it sounds terrible and he can’t figure out how to make it mean the right thing, mean what he actually wants to say. David carries himself like he could fit in anywhere: in a fancy bar in the city, a spaceship screaming across the galaxy, a brand new planet. There’s something about it Patrick wants, but it’s disorienting. It’s a different kind of want; it feels unique to the way he’s ever wanted anything before.

David’s face goes kind of mischievous, eyes sparkling and something like thrill courses through Patrick’s skin. “Okay,” David says, decisive. “We’re going to do something about this.”

 

//

Doing something about it turns out to mean that the next day, David sends Patrick a location over his feed and asks Patrick to come. _Meet me here?_ the message says, question mark and all, and it feels so tentative and hopeful, which Patrick can’t believe.

“Here” turns out to be a casino hall that Patrick didn’t even know existed. He says so, and David looks at him like he’s a crazy person. “You never looked at the map on your feed? Wait—you read that book about the ship! How did you not know?”

The map on the feed was so overwhelming Patrick only looked at it a handful of times the first couple days, when he was finding his way around. Then he just…developed routes and stuck to them.

It’s something Rachel used to hate about him, the way he was always such a person of routine. But David doesn’t seem displeased by it, just amused.

He shrugs instead of giving a real answer. David kind of smirks in response, and it’s a shared moment that stretches out just a beat too long, electricity buzzing between them.

“Okay, so,” David says, stepping farther out onto the floor and breaking it. “What’s your game?”

Patrick feels frozen. This is why he didn’t do any of this before, he thinks. Plenty of people here are dressed in clothes that cost more than a month of Patrick’s paychecks, throwing around more money than he’s ever seen in his life. Everything in here gleams, curved and modern and shiny, and champagne glasses clink and even the chatter and laughter around him feels moneyed and affluent. He shifts from one foot to the other, nervous.

“David,” he says, and he’s starting to feel kind of light-headed, like the room is going to start spinning at any second. “I don’t know, I can’t bet anything—”

David waves his hand, making a face. “Oh,” he says, sounding embarrassed to even have to talk about it. “Don’t worry about that. I was drunk and maudlin one of the first nights I got here and bought way too many chips.” He flushes and Patrick wishes he hadn’t asked.

They fool around at a few slot machines, give the craps table a shot, and even try a couple of rounds of blackjack. It’s fun, talking and teasing and winning and losing together, even if it is a heady experience, playing with more money than he’d ever be comfortable losing, money that isn’t even his. But if Patrick’s being honest, it doesn’t feel like it’s about the money. It barely feels like it’s about the games.

They eventually end up playing poker. Patrick watches David’s face, the way he bites his lip just slightly when he likes his cards. Still, he bets conservatively, even when he has the winning hand. And Patrick wants to know so much more about David, who seems so fearless in so many ways, but plays like he wants to be practical. Measured. Responsible.

Patrick gets a good hand and pushes all his chips to the center of the table, looking straight on and steadily at David. David quirks an eyebrow at him, playful, and the tilt of his mouth sends a rush of heat through Patrick. “All-in, huh?” David asks, something attractive and interesting dancing in his voice.

Patrick grins and shrugs. He doesn’t really think he can pull of nonchalance right now, but he’s giving it a shot anyway. “All-in.”

David looks at him for a moment longer, and it’s like all the air in the room has been sucked out. He places his chips carefully in the middle, one stack and then another, until there aren’t any left in front of him. He shoots Patrick a shy smile, the corners of his mouth kind of hesitant, like they’re not used to this.

Patrick has a straight. David has three nines.

But it doesn’t seem to matter to him; he claps for Patrick’s win along with the rest of the table, expression slowly blooming into an actual grin. Patrick mentally rearranges his internal ranking of David’s smiles and tries not to think too much about the fact that the happiest he’s ever seen David was watching Patrick win a silly game he barely knows how to play.

“It wasn’t so bad, right?” David asks as they step outside, before they go their separate ways to their own cabins for the night.

“Yeah,” Patrick admits, nodding as he sighs out the word. “Though I gotta say, if the next outing you have planned is anything like this, I might need a warning.”

David tilts his head to one side, the look on his face gently mocking. “Oh. Have we lost all our bravery now that there aren’t any cards in our hands?”

“No,” Patrick laughs easily, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world, to be teased by David. “I just—I had no idea where this was going to go, and. If there’s a—I don’t know, bungee jump or something planned next, some time to mentally prepare might be good.”

“Mm,” David hums, looking down at the floor between them, expression pleased. “Well, for the record, I was maybe trying to start off with a bang.”

Patrick has literally zero idea why David would have any interest in impressing him, but he already knows he’s going to lie awake all night thinking about it. “I’d say that was a success,” he manages, voice so much quieter than he meant it.

David meets his eyes again. “I’m glad. Like I said, I’d been there before, but. It was much more fun this time.”

He treats Patrick to one last irresistible smirk before walking away.

 

//

_grab me by my ankles, i've been flying for too long / i couldn't hide from the thunder in a sky full of song_

//

Over the next month, they start spending much more time together.

There is, of course, a lot of exploring of the ship to be done. They go to a movie in the large, cutting-edge theater (David admits apologetically that the state of the art sound system is probably lost on the romantic comedy he picked, as if Patrick would mind); they spend an afternoon getting treatments at the spa David frequents (the oxygen facial tickles and Patrick can’t stop laughing, which gets David started, and Patrick tips their exhausted technicians well). David shows him the gym even though he himself has no interest: it’s also state of the art, and while it’s mostly your standard courts and equipment, Patrick does feel intrigued by the climbing wall. One evening, they spend hours in the arcade, playing stupid games that flash and light up that they get way too into. Patrick beats David’s ass at air hockey four times in a row. They attend an open mic night where Mrs. Rose performs a one-woman number, and Patrick pretends not to notice the way David murmurs along to every word she sings under his breath. There’s an art gallery, which is a nice, quiet outing—David spends a lot of time frowning contemplatively at the contemporary works, and Patrick spends a lot of time trying not to watch him out of the corner of his eye.

But Patrick’s favorite is when they go to the observation deck together. He doesn’t mention seeing David there back before they knew each other, just mentions he’s surprised David would enjoy it, given his anxiety around space travel.

“It’s just so…stunning,” David breathes, looking out at the panorama before them. It’s a rainbow of color, really, between the inky black backdrop and the pinpricks of the stars. “It’s enough to make you forget the insanity of what we’re doing.”

The words come out hushed, almost like a confession, and Patrick folds them up in his chest and then concentrates on the incredible view before them so he doesn’t say anything without thinking. The words fade quietly away, but the tender intimacy of the moment remains.

And while all of this is fun and accomplishing the goal of getting Patrick familiar with the ship, his favorite moments tend to be the less outrageous ones. He still loves afternoons in the library where they sit across from one another, purposefully now, each engrossed in their own reading material. David starts joining Patrick for dinner in the cafeteria more and more, and even breakfast, sometimes, if his family doesn’t want to get up early for it. It’s nice; they can talk about anything and everything, plan their next adventure, and just spend time together.

Patrick feels a lot less alone. And if he were really a betting man, he’d put it all on the odds that David feels the same.

“What’s next on the list?” David asks over breakfast one day, brushing crumbs of toast off his fingers. He’s got a little bit of grape jelly on the corner of his mouth and it makes Patrick want to hug him, almost. He doesn’t know why.

Patrick flicks around in his feed, navigating to where they left off last on the activities list. He freezes as he reads the words, but David notices before he can play it off.

“What?”

Patrick winces. “A skywalk.” His stomach is in knots just saying it.

David, on the other hand, lights up. “Oh! Those are fun, actually. They’re really beautiful, everyone loves them. How was that not the first thing you did when you got on the ship? There was a waiting list for _weeks_.” He looks up and must notice Patrick looks a little bit… green. “Oh,” he says, and it’s in a different tone this time.

Patrick swallows hard. “I’m not good with heights.”

David tilts his head at him, a little bit teasing. “Is it heights, though?”

“I’m not really comfortable with Newton’s Second Law, either.”

David’s smirking now. “You’re attached to the ship. There’s a cable.” He does a silly little hand gesture for cable, yanking on air, and okay, this is open mocking now.

“David,” Patrick says, voice firm and insistent. “I like keeping both feet on the ground.”

“Okay,” David says, placating, his voice colored with affection. He pats Patrick’s hand with his own, play-condescendingly. “We’re gonna do this, and you’re gonna be _fine._ ” He moves his hand away as quickly as he put it there in the first place, and Patrick’s stomach flips. He’s going to blame it on the thought of a skywalk.

“You have a little, um. Just, right here—” Patrick says, brushing at the spot on his own face, and David goes pink and catches it with his tongue, ducking his head, embarrassed and pretending not to be. Patrick wants to hug him even more.

The next day, they’re changing into skywalk suits in the prep room, and Patrick is trembling.

“You know, you’re really lucky you're doing this now,” David says. “These suits have really gotten more flattering in the last fifteen years. Some of us have old pictures in the bulky ones.”

Patrick lets out a nervous little laugh. “How many times have you done this?”

“A fair few. The first time was a birthday present from my dad when I turned ten.” He shudders, lining up the helmet to put on. Patrick slips his on too, and the despondent guy working the skywalk checks it casually, _much_ too quickly for Patrick’s taste. When David speaks again, his voice is a little robotic and crackly, coming in over the speaker in the suit. “I had a panic attack as soon as we got out there,” he says, smiling apologetically.

Patrick’s jaw drops. “Gee, thanks, David, that information is really helpful right now.”

“But you won’t,” David says, which a reassuring smile, which…that’s kind of new, that’s not a quality he’s seen on David’s face before. David is actually confident about this, and Patrick wants to trust him.

They step through, and the doors behind them close, then the ones ahead of them open. Patrick feels frozen to the spot.

“Are we ready to do this?” David asks, turning to him, and over the speaker in the quiet of space, it feels close and familiar and warm.

Patrick gapes uselessly, just looking out, speechless. It looks so different already than just seeing it all from the viewing deck on the ship, the large thick pane of glass between them distorting the reality of it. The brightness, the very _realness_ of it.

David seems to know, reaching forward and grabbing his hand. Patrick startles a little at the touch, but David is smiling lopsidedly at him and leading him out into the stars. Eventually they reach the end of the walkway and David just…steps out, into the heavens, and Patrick is still clinging desperately to his hand so he doesn’t have a choice, he’s pulled out too and then they’re floating.

Patrick feels like he can’t whip his head around fast enough to look at everything. There are washes of blue and purple, bright clusters of white-yellow stars, the electric blue trail of the ship behind them and the blazing lights inside. “It’s…incredible,” he manages, voice crackling with feeling, and David’s smile is deep and wide and in that moment, Patrick thinks he is just as beautiful as what is around them.

 

//

“Are you going to the ball in a couple days?” David whispers to him when they’re in the library one afternoon. He always whispers there, and Patrick can’t help but find it really, really cute, because who’s going to shush them? The library retrieval bots?

“What ball?” he asks, at a normal volume. Possibly with a little bit of a scoff. Anyway, he still thinks is a fair question, but David looks at him like he’s just said something incredibly stupid.

“You haven’t seen it on the feed?” he asks, gaping a little. “They’re pushing it hard, I swear I’m getting ads for it every couple hours. Something about celebrating how many days we’ve been on the ship, I don’t know.”

Patrick bites his lip to keep himself from blurting out something he shouldn’t, but to be honest, he’s had his feed turned off more and more often since he started hanging out with David. He’s never been super into it the way other people have, because of the way his brain works in the first place, but being with David feels like…well, it feels like living. It feels like having a life, having things to look forward to instead of just trying to get through the day.

“I don’t pay much attention to the ads,” Patrick says, not meeting David’s eyes. David looks at him a little sideways at that, and Patrick’s aware it’s a shitty defense since he literally told David about how he won his fare on this ship from a goddamn ad. “Anyway, where are they even going to have it? The observation deck?”

And again, David is looking at him like he’s missed something huge.

“Are you serious? You walked around this ship for months and didn’t notice the giant fucking ballroom in the middle of it?” he asks, his voice slightly louder than a whisper now, and Patrick can’t help but grin.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” David says, rising and grabbing Patrick’s hand, pulling him out of the library.

Patrick goes, trying to stifle his laughter, and also trying to tamp down the fluttering in his stomach that started up when David had touched him. He can’t describe it really, even to himself—it felt like the most natural thing in the world to blush at the tips of his ears when David touched him, to feel inside like someone had set off fireworks. David doesn’t let go, drags him near to the dead center of the main floor, all the way toward the back by the large, chrome doors. They stand for a second before David drops his hand, as if he’d only just remembered he was holding it. When Patrick turns to look at him, he’s already twisted his arms across his chest.

“You never wondered what this fucking huge room was for?” David asks, amused, before swiping over the access point. The doors open with a quiet _whoosh_ and they step inside. Patrick feels speechless.

There are huge, glittering chandeliers made of diamonds along high, arched ceilings. Tables are covered in thick cream-colored linens, adorned with huge bouquets of flowers. It’s overwhelmingly beautiful, like something out of an eighteenth century palace, and more than anything else he’s seen here so far, it really drives home that he is entirely out of his depth. Maybe David feels comfortable in a setting like this, a setting meant to make you feel like a queen or a king, but all Patrick can think about is stepping the wrong way and knocking over something precious.

He swallows hard as he looks around, eyes still darting around as he tries in vain to take it all in. “David, this is a big deal,” he breathes out. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about… this a _big_ deal,” he repeats again. Surely David’s already aware that Patrick has never been in a setting like this in his life, Patrick doesn’t have to remind him.

David shrugs, looking around too. “It doesn’t have to be. For us it could just be a fun night,” he says, and his eyes are so full of—of _mischief_ in the way they sometimes are, as if to say _Come on, come with me, let’s play a game_. He spins around, looking at the shining crystal structures above them. “We could make fun of everyone who got too dressed up to actually dance. Eat all the refreshments. Request nothing but truly terrible pop songs from the band.”

And as much as that does sound like a good time, Patrick knows he could have a good time with David anywhere. Doing anything. But does he really want to put himself in an environment where he could so easily make a fool of himself?

“I don’t even know what I’d wear,” he replies helplessly.

He watches David roll his eyes, walking over to the back door, where there’s a panel of switches. “As if it matters,” he says, sweeping his hand over one of the sensors, and then everything kind of flickers.

The big chandeliers disappear, the intricate patterns crawling up the walls melt away. The tablecloths and flowers fade out, and then all that’s left is a cold, smooth chrome interior. Like so much else of the ship; nothing remarkable or noteworthy about it. Patrick blinks in surprise.

David’s mouth is twisted all to one side, watching Patrick carefully as he approaches. “It’s all a mirage at the end of the day,” he says, something resigned in his voice that Patrick wants to poke at, get to the bottom of.

“Why do they do that?” he asks, words he’s thought a thousand times spilling out of him. “The library, the fancy restaurants, just—why is everything designed to look like something out of a history book? Something out of a castle, or a palace, or… I don’t know. Like a fantasy. What’s wrong with now, what’s wrong with what we’re actually doing, the life we’re really living?”

David shrugs, casual. “Rich people like luxury. They like feeling exclusive, like they’re making history.”

“But we are making history,” Patrick insists.

“Yeah, but making it and _feeling_ it are two different things. Like, the people who went there first and started the settlement and figured out the soil and the crops and everything? They made history. We’re just piggybacking on,” he says, eyes skimming around the walls as they walk idly around the room, not looking at Patrick. Patrick’s noticed he does that when he’s talking about something real, doesn’t want to make eye contact, like he thinks all of a sudden Patrick will turn and laugh at him. “Actually making history doesn’t feel glamorous, I’d guess. You don’t have time to think about it, because you’re too busy just trying to survive.”

Patrick crosses his arms, exhaling. “You make it all sound pretty gilded. Luxury, I mean.” He knows there’s a note of frustration in his voice, but he’s curious too. David is so rarely serious, and he selfishly wants more of it.

“It is,” he says softly. “Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

He finally turns to look at Patrick, and there’s something so fragile and defensive in his face that Patrick feels punched in the gut. He’s saying one thing, but clearly means another, clearly means _I’m not worth it,_ and David thinks—he really doesn’t get it, does he? He still thinks this is a game, that Patrick’s going to see something and say, _that’s enough now, I’ve had enough._

It’s not. It is so, so far from being that.

He can feel his brain starting to kick into gear too hard. Suddenly he’s feeling too much, hyper-aware of the way he’s standing and the way he’s looking at David and how his pulse is thudding away at breakneck speed. It’s happened before; he’s making casual conversation and then something _breaks_ in him.

He’d thought, maybe even hoped, that with David he’d be immune from this. That maybe he could get all of the good parts and none of the bad; skip the panic and worry and nerves. He thought he had an actual shot at things being different, this time.

That doesn’t seem to be the case. He feels a disappointed, sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, slow and pathetic, like a balloon letting out air.

“I—” he stutters, mouth moving uselessly, no sound coming out. They’re standing alone in a big, empty ballroom, and David is looking at him with something challenging in his face, and all of a sudden Patrick can’t breathe. He can’t be here, he can’t look at David when he’s trying to tell Patrick, in his own backhanded way, that he’s not worth this. “I—I have to go.”

He doesn’t realize it’s what he’s going to say until it’s already out, and he immediately regrets it. He wants to give this a chance so badly, but it’s hard when everything inside him is just _scared_ , screaming for him to run back to something familiar, something safe, even if it hurts.

David’s face shifts, but Patrick catches the flicker of disappointment before he schools himself back into a neutral expression, stone cold. He crosses his arms across his chest, looking away, brow furrowing and lips pressed together. “I… yeah,” he says, not even fighting it, and Patrick hates him a little bit, for that.

“David,” he says, feeling suddenly desperate. “It’s just, it’s not—”

“It’s fine,” he says, voice and face casual, but Patrick can see the effort, the set of his shoulders. “Don’t worry about it.” He turns and walks away, spine straight, and then Patrick is left there, stuck, has to turn on his heel and head miserably out of the room.

 

//

_i will not ask you where you came from / i will not ask and neither should you / honey just put your sweet lips on my lips / we should just kiss like real people do_

//

_I’m sorry,_ he sends down his feed that night, after he’s taken a long shower and a lot of deep breaths. He hates that he ran; he hates it so much. _I didn’t mean to do that._

It takes a second, but David pings him back. _It’s okay,_ he says, and Patrick can feel the kindness in it. A lump forms in this throat.

 _I didn’t want to,_ he sends back. It’s not enough, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

There’s no response that time, and Patrick tries not to think about it. Goes through his little bedtime ritual, brushes his teeth and washes his face, splashing cold water on it a few more times than normal. He just—he needs to get a grip on this. He’s going to wake up tomorrow and not be afraid.

The little electronic ding of the door sounds just as he’s crawling into bed, and Patrick honestly doesn’t know who it could be. He wonders for a second if something’s wrong, because it feels like getting a phone call in the middle of the night. Never good news.

But Patrick presses the button for it to open anyway, because he can’t not know.

The door opens with a smooth, mechanical whoosh, and then David is stepping hesitantly into his room, biting his lip with his mouth all twisted to one side, expression unreadable. “Hi,” he says, and his voice is low, and Patrick feels the need to draw the sheet a little higher over his chest for some reason. David’s in a plain black t-shirt and cozy black joggers, and he looks the softest Patrick’s ever seen him, all dressed for bed but still so quintessentially himself. Patrick’s heart is doing something tight and painful in his chest.

“Um, hi,” he says as the door sweeps closed again, feeling a tentative smile take over his features. He didn’t know until he saw David standing there how much he wanted it to be him. “Is everything okay?”

David shakes his head, stepping forward a bit but then hesitating, like he’s not sure he should. Patrick nods, as if to give him permission, so David moves to sit on the very edge of Patrick’s bed. The air feels charged and Patrick has to stop himself from consciously holding his breath.

“No,” David finally breathes. “I mean—yes, everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong, I just…” he trails off, face screwing up like he doesn’t know what to say or how to say it, and Patrick _aches_.

He’s not sure what his own face looks like, exactly, is sure it’s desperate and scared and horribly unattractive, at the moment. But David must _see_ something there, past the uncertainty and the fear, because he’s whispering, “Can I…” and Patrick’s nodding, insistent, even though he doesn’t know what he’s nodding for until he’s leaning back, and David has crawled between his legs and he has a hand on the side of David’s face, and they’re kissing.

David kisses soft but firm, something so fucking—competent and confident and easy about it, something a little bit take-charge and irresistible. Patrick lets his legs fall open slightly so David can get closer, and David hums with pleasant surprise into his mouth, thumb brushing slowly over the exposed skin of Patrick’s hip. He moves like he knows exactly what he wants, and Patrick is trembling because he wants _everything_ , all David has to give and more. He lets David tug him impossibly closer, slotting their bodies together like they were meant to fit, and Patrick groans into the kiss.

They pull away after what feels like a long moment. Patrick opens his eyes slowly, feeling kind of drunk, and David’s eyes are bright in the darkness, the smile still hiding on his face. Patrick blinks at him, slow, and swallows hard.

“Is this okay?” David asks, still so quiet like he doesn’t want to spook Patrick, and Patrick nods senselessly.

“God, yes,” he says, fervent, instead of what’s running around in his head, which is just _oh thank god, thank god, thank god._

David’s smile peeks out a little bit more as he leans in, this time dropping a quick, light peck to Patrick’s lips before pulling back again. “You’ll stop me if it’s too much?”

Patrick can’t imagine anything being too much right now; he feels like molten gold, hot and liquid and precious. He doesn’t ever want David to stop touching him. “Yeah,” he says uselessly anyway, and David gives a ghost of a nod, lets out a long breath as he moves to kiss Patrick again.

There’s something almost lazy about the way David kisses that makes Patrick want to just…crawl inside him. David kisses like they aren’t in any hurry, and they aren’t, but Patrick is impatient. Kisses him back with everything he has, hot and greedy, and David lets him take. Patrick thumbs over the stubble of David’s jaw and _shivers_ , which is embarrassing, but David smiles into the kiss for a second like he knows, and something in Patrick just. Settles.

Their bodies are rolling together before long, slow and steady and unhurried, and Patrick really isn’t sure who started it but he thinks it might have been him. Still, David has been responsive, moving with him, and it’s friction but not enough, and that’s how he finds his hands falteringly skimming under David’s soft t-shirt, settling on warm skin.

David pulls away, and for one heart-dropping second, Patrick thinks he’s done something wrong. But David’s just straightening up, pulling his shirt over and off, before dipping back down and into the kiss. Patrick’s fingertips press lightly right above David’s waistband, polite. He wants more but doesn’t know what exactly, or how to ask. There’s so much and it all feels slightly overwhelming, but David moves to trail hot kisses along his jaw, to his neck, behind his ear and over his pulse.

“You can touch me,” he says, something rough and so hot about his voice. “Patrick, touch me.”

And that’s all it takes, Patrick has one hand twisting in his hair and the other scratching over the small of David’s back with his short, blunt nails. It’s not very nice, but David sort of keens into it in a way that makes Patrick think that maybe David’s not always very nice, that maybe there’s a part of him that doesn’t want to be patient and polite either.

They keep kissing and they keep moving and Patrick can feel himself getting hard even though he’s almost unaware of it, brain too occupied by touching David to think about his own dick right now. “What do you want?” David finally asks, angling a little awkwardly to bite lightly at the light birthmark on Patrick’s arm and look up at him from under his lashes. Patrick goes shivery all over. He wonders when David noticed it, if he’s thought about it before now. He holds his breath as David sweeps over it gently with his thumb, continuing. “Tell me what you want, I wanna give it to you.”

It’s such a simple, plain statement but Patrick feels his stomach drop with excitement. He takes a long, shaking breath, before dipping his thumbs questioningly into the waistband of David’s joggers. “I wanna take these off, and then I want to suck you.”

David makes this sound that’s a little bit like a gasp but also sounds, maybe, thrilled, like he wasn’t expecting Patrick to say that. But he nods, quick and pliant. “Yeah. Um, yeah, we can—we can do that,” he says, and if Patrick didn’t know any better he would think he heard a little crack in David’s voice in there. “Let me just—”

He rolls them over so Patrick’s on top of him, and Patrick sits up and fumbles with the tie to David’s sweats, breathing out harshly, trying to center himself. David smoothes a hand up his arm, a grounding, sure touch, and it’s calming. He gets David’s pants off, and then his dark, fancy boxer-briefs, and then he’s lowering himself down and breathing hot over David’s cock, touching the wetness at the tip and spreading it around. David is wet, wetter than Patrick expected, and something jumps inside him to know that David must have been really enjoying this too, as simple as its been so far. He curls his hand around the base.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says, the desperate, unbidden confession tumbling out of him before he can stop it. He winces almost immediately—it’s not sexy; he wants David to think he’s…desirable, something to want, someone who can make him feel good, and here he is just blurting out his sexual inexperience.

But there’s something soft and open about David’s face. He reaches down for Patrick’s free hand, threading their fingers together and giving a light squeeze. “It’s okay,” he says, voice kind of delicate in the quiet. Patrick watches his throat work as he swallows. “We don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Patrick murmurs back, because the last thing he wants David to think is that he doesn’t. “Just—stop me if I do something wrong.”

David makes a noise like he’s going to respond, but before he can, Patrick is sucking the head of his cock into his mouth, slow and thorough. David makes this little choked, desperate sound, eyes fluttering closed. He works his hand a little, up and down to meet his lips as he adjusts. God, he likes it, it’s surprising how much and how quickly he likes it. The feel of David heavy on his tongue and filling his mouth, the taste of him bitter but sexy, somehow, the way David tips his head up and gasps when Patrick tongues over the slit.

He wants to learn every inch of him, learn every little thing that makes him shake or whine so he can play him like an instrument. He wants to draw this out, savor it, but there’s also a sort of frenzy in him because he just _wants_ so badly.

He’s never had this before, during sex. Before, sex was something awkward and something he had to knuckle through, and he’s not sure what to do with this new feeling. He can’t stop looking at David, and all he can think is _I found you._

He’s not sure how well he’s doing, but before long David is clutching at his shoulders, trying to warn him. Patrick hums around him—he doesn’t want to stop, wants to make David come and take it all. David groans when he realizes, and then he’s coming, he is. With a gasp of Patrick’s name, he’s spilling into his mouth. Patrick takes as much as he can but coughs and has to pull away, but it’s fine because he can see David better this way, watch how his face transforms into the most exquisite and beautiful kind of need. The way his eyes flutter open as he comes back to himself.

“Oh,” he says softly, mouth curving around a smile. “You have—”

Patrick realizes, can feel himself going flushed. He was too caught up in David to notice before, but now he touches tentatively at his lip. He sucks David’s come off his forefinger, experimental, and watches David’s body quiver, his eyes going dark.

“Come here,” he says, and his voice is low and rough, and it’s all Patrick can do to follow.

David pulls him up and kisses him, slow and thorough. “Patrick,” he gasps, voice breaking. “God, that was so good, you did so—so good, fuck—”

Patrick groans into the kiss. It feels unbelievably good to hear, to know David liked what he did. He liked it too, didn’t realize how hard he was until now, when David is brushing over the front of his boxer-briefs with one hand. His hips jerk into it, harder than he meant for them to, shocked by the way his body responds.

David’s fingers brush over his waistband tentatively. “Can I…”

“ _David,”_ Patrick says, impatient, and David grins fully, dipping his thumbs under and sliding them down.

His breath catches as he looks down at Patrick. Patrick squirms a little bit under his gaze, helpless. “Please,” he says, absolutely breathless. “Please, David, please.” He’s begging for David to touch him and he doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.

“Shh, I’ve got you, I promise,” David says, soothing but smiling, lifting his hand and licking his palm and wrapping his hand around Patrick’s cock. And fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing Patrick’s ever seen.

He sees stars behind his eyes the second David touches him. He’s not going to last long at all, he’s too wound up already. David’s touch feels like a miracle, like the answer to a prayer, like a wish granted he could never even bring himself to say out loud. He barely recognizes his own voice when he speaks, colored the way it is with desperation and hunger. “Oh my god, David.”

The corners of David’s lips quirk up. It’s just a second, but Patrick catches it. David looks, just—glowing, so good. “I wanted this,” Patrick pants. “God, David, I wanted this for—”

“Me too,” he whispers, looking up at him. There’s something unspeakably tender in his face, in the way his voice trembles and nearly catches, and Patrick tries to memorize it. “Patrick, I wanted this for so long.”

“David,” he sighs, pulling him close to kiss him, frantic with it. David is working him just right, so it’s messy but good, and he has to pull away after a second to breathe, eyes squeezed shut tight. He lets out a whine when David thumbs over the head, trying not to lose control. David brushes a kiss on his jawline, over the thud of his heartbeat in his neck, the delicate skin at the corner of his eye.

“Come for me, Patrick,” he says, and just like that he _does,_ harder and better than he can ever remember doing, so much it knocks the breath out of him. David works him through it, jerking him off until he’s shaking, and then moves so his arms are around him. Despite the mess, he presses them together, holding him tight until his body stops trembling so strongly, until he can breathe. He drops light, reassuring kisses to Patrick’s neck, his collarbone, his shoulder, anywhere he can reach.

“It’s okay,” he’s murmuring over and over. “You’re okay, I’ve got you, it’s okay,” and Patrick feels his stomach flip-flop beautifully. David’s taking care of him, he realizes, and he breathes out, relaxed.

“David,” he mumbles. The word comes out slightly slurred, and David lets out this gentle, soft laugh. He untangles himself from Patrick’s loose, boneless limbs.

Patrick allows his eyes to fall closed for a moment. He hears David pad away, and then the tap running, the quiet and domestic sounds of David cleaning himself up. He smiles and can’t help feeling like he should hide it, like it’s too soon to feel all the things threatening to burst out of his chest, but he can’t stop it. God, he’s got to pull himself together. He’s got to try and be a person by the time David gets back, instead of the giddy, overcome mess he is right now. He doesn’t want to lose this feeling, though. He doesn’t want to let it go.

David comes back with a washcloth and a nervous smile, gently cleaning off Patrick’s stomach. Then he sort of perches on the side of the bed, hands folded and mouth twisted up, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, and it makes a laugh huff out of Patrick. “What are you doing? C’mere,” he says, reaching for David’s hand and giving it a tug.

David rolls his eyes sort of fondly but goes, stretching out along Patrick’s side, fingertips trailing soft circles across Patrick’s stomach. His mouth relaxes into a small, hesitant smile, and Patrick has to press forward to kiss it, soft and gentle. When he pulls back again, it’s wider.

“What made you…” Patrick tries to ask, but the words are still all stop-start in his brain. “How did—”

His eyes do this thing where they sort of spark, sometimes. It happened that first day in the library, and during the skywalk, and it’s happening now. “You just… you seemed sort of like you scared yourself, earlier,” he says, something so careful and warm in his voice that Patrick can’t help but feel comforted. “But you were trying so hard, and just. I thought. I should try too.” His eyes dart away after he says it, just like usual, but he doesn’t look quite as afraid as he has before.

“Thank you,” Patrick says, his voice low and rough. He pushes David onto his back so Patrick can lay his head on David’s chest. David’s hand flutters in the air for a second before settling comfortably on his back.

“Was it… did you freak out because of me?” David asks. The words come out fast, like he didn’t mean to say them. Patrick feels him tense underneath him, and immediately runs a hand soothingly along David’s chest in response.

“Sorry,” he says immediately, so tentative in the dark. “I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean—”

“It wasn’t because of you,” Patrick murmurs, trying to make sure his voice is firm and solid and steady. “I don’t want you to think that.”

David is very still. Patrick tries to think about how to word this, how to tell him. His brain is screaming that it’s too early to do this, but he thinks about the last time he listened to that hysteria and where it got him. He takes a deep breath instead.

“I’ve never… done that,” he admits, squeezing his eyes shut hard for a moment before willing himself to open them again. “I mean, I knew I wanted to. But I didn’t _know_ know?”

David hums as if to encourage him, and Patrick can feel him slowly relaxing, muscle by muscle.

He wills himself to finish. “Sometimes I’m good at. Trying not to think about things.”

“Patrick,” David whispers into his hair, and there’s such tenderness to the sound it’s hard to take. He sounds like he’s going to continue, to say more, but Patrick opens his mouth and words are coming out that he didn’t expect to say.

“But I knew with you. Pretty much from the moment I met you,” he says softly, and David breathes out.

It’s not enough, he thinks, as his eyes droop closed in the dim light. Patrick knows they’re going to have to talk more, if they’re really going to do this. Which is what he wants. He knows he’ll have to explain about Rachel and elaborate on the reasons he left in the first place. He wants to get David’s history too, the full stories behind the little anecdotes he throws out self-deprecatingly, even though he knows it may hurt.

But it’s worth it. It’s worth it for David. From the moment he walked into Patrick’s life, Patrick knew David was worth everything.

 

//

They do everything David promised they would do at the ball the next night. They try the pretentious, over-the-top cocktail: David’s face puckers at the taste and he’s immediately shaking his head, asking for a glass of red wine instead. They sit in the corner and make fun of the people too rich and serious to allow themselves to have fun, those who instead favor standing disapprovingly at the sides, looking loftily down on the people who chose to dance. They steal fancy hors d'oeuvres off platters as the automated waiter bots float by.

They also do more. David smoothes a slow hand down Patrick’s lapel at one point, eyes fond—they’re both only a little bit more dressed up than normal, Patrick in a jacket and David in a more formal pair of pants, a simpler sweater. Patrick uses his feed to request the band play an old [classic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T3OZgiFt_h4) David mentioned having a soft spot for, once. The strings start in on it and takes David a second to realize what it is, but when he does his face goes quietly excited, and he pulls Patrick onto the dance floor with both hands. He doesn’t ask, and Patrick doesn’t tell, but his hands are on David’s waist and David’s arms are around his neck, and everything feels kind of…perfect.

Patrick gets it now, a little bit. The aesthetic of it, the nostalgia for a time you weren’t even apart of. Because he doesn’t think he’s ever felt anything more— _romantic_ —than swaying there with David, surrounded by glittering dresses and string quartets and bright lights.

They get a little tipsier than is probably appropriate, giggling as they fumble their way back into Patrick’s cabin. He feels like a teenager getting away with mischief at a fancy wedding, at least until David’s pressing him up against the door and dropping to his knees. Patrick knots his fingers in David’s hair and whines, unguarded. David sets a rhythm, desperate and relentless, and Patrick spills into his mouth in record time.

After, he shoves David onto the bed and David goes a little pink at being pushed around, which is promising and something he’ll have to remember for another time. Patrick rumples his pretty clothes, jerks him off and makes him come on his stomach, and David looks like he’s been punched in the gut when it’s over, the way he gasps for breath.

As tempting as it is to just doze off tangled together in such a state of disarray, Patrick gathers up the energy to pull a sleepy David out of the rest of his clothes, use some tissues to clean them both up, and pull the sheet over them both. David snuggles into his side immediately, like a heat-seeking missile, and Patrick runs a hand over the skin of his shoulder, his arm, his hip.

“See?” David murmurs into the darkness. “I told you it would be a fun night.”

 

//

“So they were all dates, essentially,” Patrick says over breakfast the next morning.

In the past few hours, he’s been very lucky. He got to see David blink awake, soft and slow, his face melting into a smile when he saw Patrick watching him. He got to touch his sleep warm skin until both of them were too worked up and had to get off. Then he got to make out with him under the spray of the shower, slick and wet and wonderful.

David’s hair is still air drying across the table from him, since he didn’t have any of his usual products in Patrick’s room and they were both too hungry to wait for a bot to fetch them. He realizes he’s never gotten the chance to see David as anything less than fully put-together and composed, and that’s why he can’t get enough of it. Even the night they got together, David woke first, slipping out to shower, change, and bring back tea for Patrick before he’d woken up. It had been sweet and unexpected and comforting, but Patrick thinks he prefers this: last night’s clothes in hasty piles on the floor, David in one of Patrick’s borrowed sweats and t-shirt. It feels cozy and domestic, delightfully real.

David’s ankle knocks gently against his under the table. “I mean, I wasn’t lying. I did want to be your friend. I wasn’t trying to like, trick you into dating me without realizing or anything,” he says.

Patrick thinks for a moment about dates. He’d always dreaded them, gotten gut-wrenching anxiety leading up to them. He’d mentioned this to a coworker once and they’d looked at him like he was crazy. “It’s normal to be nervous, sure, but like, in a fun way. Not like you would rather die,” he’d said, shooting Patrick some serious side-eye.

At that point, he’d never once experienced that. With Rachel, he’d always looked forward to seeing her in a sort of broken-in, comfortable way, but it wasn’t that anything ever approaching either nerves or excitement.

Every day he knew he was going to see David, he woke up feeling like he couldn’t get there fast enough. He was jumpy, knocking things over and overthinking what he would wear, what he would say, but it did feel fun. They may not have been dates, per se, but they were the first time he felt what he was supposed to feel, the first time he felt right about it.

“So, last night was our first date then,” he tries.

David colors, high points of his cheekbones going pink, pressing his lips together tight. Patrick didn’t expect this reaction, and he’s delighted. He waits it out, watches David closely with a small, intimate smile until David looks like he’s about to burst.

“We planned it before we got together! It shouldn’t count,” he says, burying his face in his coffee cup as soon as the words are out.

“David,” Patrick says patiently, “It literally ended in sex.”

The pink on his face deepens into red. “It doesn’t count,” he says staunchly, tipping his chin up. “I’m going to plan us a better one for tonight, and it’s going to be our first official date for our story when we tell people, and we’re both going to know it’s a date.”

“For our story when we tell people?” Patrick repeats back in a slightly teasing voice. He just wants to be sure he didn’t happily hallucinate those words, but suddenly David becomes very interested in his vegetarian breakfast tacos and doesn’t respond, even if the back of his neck is red now too.

David pings him later in the day and tells him to bring his swimsuit. Patrick knows where they’re going immediately—the first couple weeks, the infinity pool had been a big topic of conversation. There’s some kind of projection on the bottom that reflects what the underside of _Demeter_ is actually seeing. There’s also a large window at one end, so it basically looks and feels like you’re swimming in space. Some people loved it, some were freaked out by it. Patrick feels a tingling nervousness in his fingers and toes as he looks out at it while waiting for David, but then again, that could just be because they’re about to have their first official date.

He’s staring out at the water when David nudges his shoulder with his own. “Hi,” he says kind of shyly, a small smile on his face that grows when he says teasingly, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Patrick feels a little bit speechless. It’s embarrassing, but when they’ve slept together so far, Patrick’s been distracted by—well, other things, so he hasn’t had a chance to take in all of David’s _skin_ , the light freckles on his shoulders and his arms. The way his hipbones peek out of the waist of his slim black trunks. Patrick wants to wrap him up and keep him forever.

“Hey,” he breathes back, trying to sound like a normal person. It’s not even sexual, it’s just a lot all at once. “This is really, um. This is really beautiful.”

David’s smile goes a little bit challenging, a hint of ribbing there and a maybe a flash of competitiveness. “It doesn’t make you nervous?”

Patrick smiles in response, something in his stomach doing somersaults as shakes his head, trying to project pure confidence. “Why would it make me nervous?” he says, faking innocence, and David quirks an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t know, you seem to have a lot of confidence for someone who was so worked up about a perfectly safe little skywalk,” David says, and okay, that’s outright teasing now. Patrick loves it.

“Hm, and _you_ seem to be stalling a lot for someone who isn’t at all afraid,” he shoots back, grinning. He extends one arm towards the water. “After you, please.”

David shrugs, more casual than Patrick’s ever seen him, and approaches the edge. He shoots Patrick a smug glance over his shoulder before turning around and diving into the pool elegantly, his body a long, curved line as it enters the water. Patrick’s jaw drops against his will as he watches David glide underneath the surface, wades down the stairs and in himself, not really feeling or thinking about what he’s doing. He feels hypnotized, like he can see or feel anything but David, surrounded by stars.

David’s body rises to the surface and his strokes made long, careful arcs to the other end before flipping around and making his way back. As he comes up, a smile breaks over his face in the same way his head breaks the surface—achingly gorgeous and all at once. Patrick feels caught in his gaze like a laser beam, unable to move or even look away, can’t stop watching a rivulet of water trail it’s way from David’s hairline down to his collarbone.

“What?” David asks, slightly breathless and maybe a little self-conscious. “You think I came by this physique naturally? With the amount of fine dining I do?”

He’s teasing, but Patrick’s still too entranced to really be able to deal. “You look, really…” he tries, but the words aren’t good enough for what he wants. There’s no accurate way to describe David, dripping wet and smiling and surrounded by the heavens.

David’s smile slowly becomes a soft, delicate thing instead of a tease, and he moves closer, into Patrick’s space. “What?” he asks, and his voice is so soft as he brackets Patrick up against the side of the pool with his hands, not touching him but so irresistibly close.

Patrick surges up to kiss him, hands desperate on David’s upper arms, gasping into his mouth when David bites his lip. The water dripping down his face is on Patrick’s now too, but he can’t bring himself to care one bit. David moves closer, pressing them together as much as he can, and Patrick groans when David gets a leg between his own. Desire curls in his gut, and he finds has to pull away to catch his breath, to calm down.

David’s hair is falling in his face a little, and his dark lashes are clumped together, and Patrick wants him so badly. He feels like he’s never wanted anything this much in his whole life, like an ache in his chest for _more more more_. David’s smile is tucked all the way to one side but his eyes are bright, lit up, and Patrick made them that way, and isn’t that just the most incredible thing.

“So I reserved us the whole pool and we’re just gonna make out on the side, huh?” David asks, voice gently mocking, and Patrick laughs, head thrown back. He has to admit, it must make a beautiful picture: he and David tangled up in each other, bathed in infinity. "Some first date."

“Well, I guess we should probably swim, huh? Since you went through all that trouble.” He slips out of David’s arms and submerges himself fully, swims quickly to the other end of the pool. It’s a strange feeling, to see the stars flying by under him, and he knows it’s simulated but it’s still dizzying.

He comes up grinning, and David is pouting at him from the other end. “It wasn’t a complaint!” he calls, and Patrick has to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing with complete, utter happiness.

“Come here, then,” he says, and David shoots him a smirk like a dare, but comes. It’s only a few seconds before David’s hands are on his wet skin, pressing him with authority up against the edge, and Patrick feels himself melt happily under David’s touch.

 

//

_i do a dance to make the rain come / smile to keep the sky from falling down / collect the love that i’ve been given / build a nest for us to sleep in here_

//

Time passes and the list of attractions and activities becomes less important after that, because Patrick doesn’t need excuses to spend time with David anymore. He’s absolutely just as happy at breakfast in the cafeteria—David sitting beside him instead of across from him now, so he can sleepily lean his head on Patrick’s shoulder—as he is doing fancy spa treatments and getting massages.

But it’s not until a few weeks later, when they’re lounging in Patrick’s bed one morning, that David turns to him and murmurs, “Let me take you out.”

It feels like such an anachronistic moment, silly, because of the way they fell in love. It feels like something David might have said to him on Earth, if they had met in the right place and the right time. The odds on that feel astronomical, and Patrick feels bowled over by how lucky he knows he is to be here, now.

“Take me out where?” he asks, smile tipping up on one side. They’ve explored basically every nook and cranny of the ship at this point, and David knows this. “The observation deck? The gym?” and David rolls his eyes.

He gets his warm hands on Patrick’s lower back, pulling him in close so their noses are brushing. Normally he’d be teasing at least a little bit, but his voice is so soft and serious when he says, “Let me take you to dinner.”

Patrick can’t do anything but nod, breathless.

There are six upscale, fine dining restaurants on _Demeter_. The Roses rotate between them for dinner, most nights, but David’s been joining them less and less in favor of going to the cafeteria with Patrick, or even ordering room service to his room off the feed, having it delivered on one of those self-driving pods. But it should be a nice change, and Patrick’s not going to pass up a chance to see David dressed up, even if it means he’s currently fighting with his tie in the mirror.

David comes hurdling in, already completely dressed. “You look—” _nice_ , Patrick tries to say, which would honestly be an understatement. David looks absolutely delicious; he’s in a [dark suit](https://cdn.bgfashion.net/img17/MetGala2017_11.jpg) with a satin floral print that is just a touch lighter than the rest of the jacket, white shirt, black tie.

But David’s cutting him off before the compliment is fully out, which is just not like him at all. “There’s an emergency,” he says, wincing. “My family’s going to be at the same restaurant as we are tonight.”

He looks so hysterical about it that Patrick shouldn’t laugh, really, and tries to press his lips together to prevent it. “I hardly think that qualifies as an emergency, David.”

His face goes offended now, even as his hands go automatically to Patrick’s loose tie, starting to knot it himself. His fingers are quick and practiced, as if on autopilot, and it’s a silly thing to find sexy but Patrick definitely does. “Okay, you don’t understand what you’re in for here! They’re going to make us all sit at their table, and they’re going to grill you on everything you don’t want to talk about, and they’re going to be _so_ embarrassing and honestly, I think we should just take a rain check because we haven’t been dating long enough for you to be able to deal with all three of them at once.”

Patrick’s tie is done, now, and David moves just a half-step back to look it over with critical eyes, apparently finding it acceptable as he smooths over it. Still, he sighs. “Another few weeks and I could have prepared you.”

Patrick feels overcome with fondness, bursting with the fact that underneath all the excuses and dramatics, David is _nervous_ about Patrick meeting his family. That he cares what he’d think of them, or they of him, and it gives Patrick butterflies.

He attempts to soothe them by pressing a quick kiss to the tip of David’s nose. “We’re not taking a rain check,” he says with patient authority. “Not to discount all your anxiety here, but it’s probably going to be fine. I promise.”

David still looks a little petulant, like he’s determined to give whining one last shot. His hands settle tentatively on Patrick’s shoulders. “This is just not the way I saw our romantic evening going,” he protests. “How am I supposed to play footsie with you under the table if there’s a chance of getting my sister’s foot instead of yours?”

“Carefully, I hope,” Patrick jokes. “You wouldn’t want her to kick you with those pointy shoes of hers.”

David makes a face, but gives up.

The restaurant is gleaming. The service staff are in tuxes, and David’s mom and sister appear to be in evening gowns. There are more forks on the place settings than Patrick knows what to do with, and if he had to guess, he would say those bottles of wine are probably worth more than the suit he’s wearing. He swallows hard and tries to concentrate on the fact that David’s holding his hand, tries to take a deep breath before the Roses spot him.

“Last chance to run away and order burgers to your room,” David whispers in his ear, but Patrick laughs, shakes his head.

“I think it’s too late,” Patrick says, voice much lighter than he feels, because Alexis is whipping her head around and she spots them, approaching and pulling the rest of her family with her. Patrick freezes, back stiff and smile a little tense.

“ _Ooooh,_ ” Alexis coos, sounding much too excited for Patrick’s taste. “He’s _cute_ , David. He’s an absolute button.”

“Alexis, if you don’t shut your mouth right now I’m going to shove you into the airlock and open it—”

“Phillip, so nice to meet you!” Mrs. Rose trills, extending her hand for Patrick at an angle that…he assumes he’s supposed to kiss it? Because no one shakes hands like that. So he bends down and does, and the way she rewards him with an indulgent, whimsical smile lets him know it was the right choice.

“It’s actually Patrick,” he tries, but of course she’s already turned away and is detailing a very complicated drink order to the waiter, who is nodding along seriously like he knows it’s important that he gets this right.

“Patrick! So nice to finally meet you,” Mr. Rose says, clapping him amiably on the shoulder. “You know, it’s been a while since David was seeing anyone worthwhile enough for us to meet—”

“Oh my _god_ ,” David snaps, followed by a more thrilled and excited “Oh my _god_ , Dad!” from Alexis.

“What, what? I’m just saying, it’s been a while, David, is that not true—”

David grabs Patrick’s hand with authority, dragging him toward a table, shaking his head. “Just remember,” he says to Patrick over his shoulder as they head over, “You were the one who said this would ‘probably be fine,’” and he knows David doesn’t think it’s funny, any of it, but Patrick can’t help but laugh, chin tipped down at his feet as he follows.

It’s certainly a long meal, and by the end David literally has to drag Patrick out of a conversation with his father about their speculations on the challenges of New Earth’s economy. Patrick had been enjoying it actually, but makes his hurried goodbyes to Mrs. Rose and Alexis, who had pulled their chairs in close and seemed to be whispering rather excitedly to each other, almost conspiratorial, earning sharp warning looks from David.

“Well, we made it out without any bloodshed, which is honestly more successful than any other times I’ve had a partner meet my family,” David says, faux-optimism as they make their way to Patrick’s cabin.

“That’s not true, some very fancy urchins died tonight so we could eat them as a delicacy,” Patrick reminds him, and David rolls his eyes fondly as he keys into Patrick’s room. Patrick gave him access just a week or so ago, despite spending half an afternoon wondering if it was too fast and it would send David running in the other direction. In the end, he’d done it, damn the consequences, and all that had happened was that David’s face had gone soft and shy, nodding as he waved his hand over the sensor, the slightest shade of surprise crossing over his face when it had actually _worked_.

It’s still new, seeing David open the door to Patrick’s room like it’s a given, and it makes his insides feel warm and liquified.

“I meant any _human_ blood,” David clarifies as he pulls him through the door, and, well.

Before Patrick can argue or even ask for clarification, David shoves him up against the wall and kisses him, fierce and without warning. Patrick startles a little bit just because he hadn’t been expecting it, and is honestly still processing everything that just happened.

David’s kissing his earlobe, hungry with a little bit of teeth and edge, when Patrick is finally able to form words. “Your sister flirted with me the whole time. Are you _sure_ she knows we’re dating?”

“Mm, that’s just how she is. There’s a guy she’s hung up on, actually,” David replies, saying the words into the exposed skin of Patrick’s neck. He sounds not at all concerned, but Patrick is still perplexed.

“Your mom… called me eight different names over the course of the meal, and not one of them was right.”

“Mhm.” David is still focused on sucking a hickey into Patrick’s skin.

“Frederick doesn’t even start with a P,” he says, voice still coming out dazed.

David sighs and finally pulls away, hands still clasped greedily in his shirt. He’s wearing a wince on his face that still manages to look amused, that seems to be teetering on the edge of a smile. “Again, these are things I would have warned you about? Had we gotten the chance.”

Patrick blinks at him. “Did you Dad accidentally ask if our sex life was satisfying halfway through the meal?”

“Yes,” David confirms, his grimace turning a little a more real as the silence drags out a second. “We don’t ever have to do it again, honestly, like I said, I didn’t mean—”

“I liked them,” Patrick says, quickly and simply before David can spiral any further.

His mouth snaps shut for a moment, and then opens, and his eyes are on Patrick like he’s looking for something, like he’s examining his face for clues. Whatever it is, he must find it there, because his lips are suddenly back on Patrick’s for a sure, sound kiss. It is colored with a smile, and slowly becomes a more of a giddy press of lips than anything, and then David’s using the hands fisted in Patrick’s t-shirt to drag him to the bed, flushed and too overcome to speak. Patrick doesn’t mind.

 

//

“I can’t _believe_ you haven’t invited me on any of your little adventures, David!” Alexis exclaims as she joins them for dinner one night in the cafeteria.

Patrick still doesn’t know Alexis very well, but he does find her extremely amusing. She’s always excited for literally anything, she seems to think Patrick is adorable, and she manages to annoy David in such an extremely specific and fond way, which Patrick loves to watch. They really don’t spend a whole lot of time together, but tonight was Moira and Johnny’s anniversary, and according to David, Alexis had whined and moped about eating alone, so he very generously invited her to dinner with them. He’d informed Patrick of this very matter-of-factly, and then shot him a look as he said, “If you say it’ll ‘probably be fine,’ I swear—” but Patrick had cut him off with a kiss before David could really threaten him.

Right now, David is rolling his eyes exaggeratedly at her protests. “You’re right, Alexis, this dinner is really proving to me that I _love_ having you as a third wheel.”

Alexis scoffs, utter and complete disgust. “ _Ew,_ David, no. But you know I love high-adrenaline activities! Like, who took you on your first skywalk?” she prompts expectantly.

David looks at her blankly. “Um, Dad.”

Alexis groans again, frustrated, and Patrick is trying very hard not to laugh. “I was there too, David! And who held your hand after when we were back in the airlock and you couldn’t stop crying?”

Her brother tips his head to one side thoughtfully. He’s needling her now for fun, Patrick can tell. “Mmm, I’m pretty sure it was one of the au pairs. I think her name was Greta?”

“Ugh, no! It was me, David!” she insists, eyes wide and angry for a second before turning soft and innocent onto Patrick. She smiles sweetly, and Patrick doesn’t have to even look at David to know that his eyes are narrowing in suspicion. “Have you guys done the ropes course yet? _That_ would be a very cute look for us, bonding over all the obstacles and wearing cute little helmets and—”

“Alexis,” David snaps warningly, but Patrick doesn’t know why she deserved that just now. David’s jaw is clenched and he wants to show him that it’s not a big deal, that he doesn’t mind spending time with his sister.

“That sounds great, Alexis, we’d love to do the ropes course with you,” he says, and Alexis makes a little _mmph!_ of happiness with a birdlike little hand gesture before jumping up, presumably to get another large fistful of napkins.

“I’ll set that right up, Patrick!” she says, flicking around in her feed and booping him on the nose as she passes him by.

He turns back to David to find he looks murderous. “What?” Patrick asks, half a laugh. “It’ll be fun. Like you said, she’s lonely and we should help her have a good time.”

“Mm,” David hums in agreement, even though his eyes are still shooting daggers at her back. “ _Fun_. Yep, can’t wait to have _fun_.” A false, overexaggerated note is dripping from his voice, but Alexis comes back before Patrick can get to the bottom of it.

 

//

Over the course of the next day, David seems to brainstorm every excuse possible for why the ropes course is a very bad idea. Patrick deftly shoots them all down.

“But you said you were afraid of heights, when we were going to do the skywalk,” he tries, eyes a little bit desperate.

“Mmm, but was it heights, though?” Patrick asks doubtfully and David scowls at him, even though it was his line and Patrick can see right through it to the affection beneath. “Or was it more about being afraid of careening into nothingness forever and ever?”

David shudders and immediately changes the subject.

They show up for the booking ten minutes early as suggested. Alexis shows up ten minutes late, dragging along some fit, handsome, lightly bearded guy by the hand who is wearing a sunny, slightly dopey smile. Patrick’s about to ask when he feels David wilt beside him.

“You brought _Ted?_ ” David whines at her, and then immediately, “No offense, Ted.”

And then things click into place. Alexis’ glowing smile, the way her hair is done up carefully in a braid, even under the safety helmet. This must be the guy she’s hung up on, the reason she’s so lonely in the first place.

“None taken!” Ted chirps amiably, holding up his hands. Then he offers one to Patrick. “You must be Patrick! So nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you from Alexis.”

“Oh,” Patrick says, kind of surprised. He didn’t know Alexis knew enough about him to talk about him. He doesn’t really know anything about Ted, can’t formulate a good response.

 _He’s a vet, he loves puns, and he and Alexis were engaged twice,_ David sends quickly down his feed, as if he’s thinking the same thing.

Patrick tries not to let his eyes bug out. _Twice?_ he sends back, but David is talking to Ted now and too busy to respond.

With the Ted surprise and the way David twitches every time Alexis laughs a little too heartily at every last one of his unfortunate puns, Patrick doesn’t even think about David’s stubborn resistance to the ropes course until they’re at the third or fourth obstacle. It’s the first one that requires them to climb a good forty feet in the air. Ted and Alexis are already up, giggling about something Patrick can’t make out, and David is standing in front of him completely frozen, unable to move.

“Are you okay?” Patrick asks. He wants to touch him, give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but he worries that would just make things worse.

“Mhm!” David trills, even though he looks kind of pale and the words coming out of his mouth have never sounded so fake. God, he looks like a ghost all of a sudden, and the eyes he shoots Patrick are wide and frantic.

Oh my god. Patrick finally slots the pieces together in his brain.

“David, are you afraid of heights?”

David nods harshly, lips pressed together so tight the skin around them is going white. Patrick does step forward then, hand light on the small of David’s back. “David, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

He really does feel terrible. He never would have pushed into this had he known, and he wishes David would have told him before now, since they’re thirty percent of the way through the course and have passed all the tap-out spots. “It’s fine, I’m pretty sure Alexis did it to mess with me,” he admits, voice quiet and shaky. He’s squeezing his fists tight at his sides and then releasing, squeezing and then releasing.

“Alexis!” Patrick calls up, because if she did then that’s terrible, and he needs to give her a stern talking to. “Alexis, is David afraid of heights?”

The giddy look she’d been wearing just a moment ago fades right off, and Patrick may be too frenzied to really think straight right now, but it certainly seems like a genuine reaction. “Ohmigod, David!” she calls, kneeling at the edge of the platform so she can look down at him better. “I totally forgot, I thought you got over that after your hot air balloon experience!”

“Oh, you mean the time I was in a hot air balloon with an ex and we crashed into power lines? _No,_ Alexis, that did not help me with my fear of heights!” he says, tone biting but still determinedly putting his foot in the rope ladder. His shaking hands are making the whole thing tremble, and Patrick’s heart clenches.

“Ugh!” Alexis scoffs, quickly climbing halfway down and offering David a hand, which he takes. “Well why didn’t you say something, David? I only suggested this because I thought you’d look a little clumsy and cute in front of your boyfriend, not because I wanted you to have a panic attack!” She shakes her head but helps him every step of the way, until he’s at the top, heaving deep breaths.

Patrick follows, going as fast as he can, and when he’s at the top he grabs David’s hand and threads their fingers together. David squeezes it, and Patrick squeezes back, and he doesn’t know whose heart could possibly be beating faster between the two of them.

Still, it’s Alexis who’s best at pushing David through the obstacles, each one getting more difficult than the next. It’s a masterclass to watch, really—she knows just when to tease him to distract him, just when to hold his hand, exactly when to leave him alone so he can focus. Patrick kind of can’t take his eyes off it the whole time. He’d always gotten the impression that David and his sister weren’t that close, but now, he’s not so sure. There’s definitely a depth to that relationship, even if it is a complex one.

So it’s become less about the three (or four, with Ted) of them bonding at this point and more about Alexis helping David push through this, which is fine. Patrick likes seeing their easy give and take with one another, and Ted’s a nice guy. Fun to talk to.

He notices Patrick watching as David and Alexis work their way through a virtual treewalk. “They’re hilarious, aren’t they? They annoy the crap out of each other, but you can also tell they really do love each other.”

“Yeah,” Patrick agrees, turning with a smile toward Ted. He thinks about what David had said, about Alexis being hung up on him, and clears his throat. “You know, I don’t know Alexis that well, but she seems really great.”

Ted sort of… lights up but then catches himself, trying to school his face into a more casual expression. “She really is. We used to see each other a year or so ago,” he says, looking ahead to the other end of the obstacle where David and Alexis are bickering with familiarity, swallowing hard. “She’s a great girl. She’s gonna find someone perfect for her.”

He looks so fond, something a little bit wistful in his face, and it hits Patrick like a punch in the gut. He’s seen the way Alexis has looked at him all afternoon, like he’s the best person in the whole universe, and now Ted is looking back at her with such overwhelming pride but only when she can’t see, and with such genuine unselfishness too. Patrick never thought of himself as a jealous person, before, but he’s stunned by what Ted just said. He literally can’t even imagine himself saying the same thing about David and meaning it the way he does.

And suddenly, it makes total and complete sense. All the churning in his stomach and the racing thoughts that have kept him up every night as they inch closer to the end of this voyage just shut themselves right up.

He turns his head, watching David roll his eyes at his sister where they’ve made it to the next platform, something vaguely annoyed but also playful there. His arms are still tight across his chest, defensive, and Patrick knows it’s something he does to hide when his hands are trembling. He’s probably still shaken up from the tree walk. His helmet is slightly lopsided, and he’s going to complain about the way it makes his hair look for the rest of the day, and he’s going to fuss with it constantly even though Patrick will definitely think it looks cute, kind of messy and floppy. A laugh breaks onto his face as Alexis makes a high-pitched, squeaky noise, and he looks so incredibly beautiful.

Patrick’s brain is totally calm, and empty for all but one thought: he doesn’t want to imagine even a single day of his future without David Rose.

“Hey!” he calls out, a really reckless, overwhelmed smile taking over his features, which he couldn’t stop it if he tried. David turns to look at him, all interest and anticipation, and Patrick’s heart jumps in his chest before he continues. “I’m coming over!”

David grins at him, and even from far away, it gives Patrick butterflies.

 

//

The thought continues to vibrate through him, especially as their voyage starts to wind to a close. He can feel the level of anxiety on the ship start to rise as people realize this is really going to happen, that in a few weeks they’re going to step out into a whole new life.

He and David don’t talk about their pasts that often. They haven’t talked about the future much, either, but it’s rare they spend a night apart, and David’s weird, wonderful family have folded him in without a second thought. It feels…permanent, in a way nothing ever did for Patrick on Earth.

But he’s also a little bit afraid. He’s only ever had this conversation with Rachel, and that just…felt like a given. Felt like what he was supposed to do, take the obvious next step.

They’re in the nursery one day when it comes out. “I love it here,” David sighs as they walk through row upon row of lush greenery, all kinds of plants that are soon going to be breathing new air, carefully sown in new soil. “It feels the closest to home,” he admits, wrapping his arms around himself tight. He looks like he’s glowing, and Patrick couldn’t be more in love.

He’d had a plan. He’d wanted to take David to dinner and do this right, sit down in front of a candlelit table with glasses of champagne and say _I know this is all really crazy, but I want to do this with you. I want to give this a real shot, when we land._ He’d have treated it with all the seriousness the situation deserved.

“I want to get off with you,” he says, the words coming out before he can stop them, and David’s face goes shocked and delighted. Patrick groans immediately at how it sounds, the tips of his ears and the back of his neck going flushed, and he buries his face in his hands.

“Well, as flattering as that is, I’m not sure this is quite the venue,” David says with a teasing grin. He steps closer and winds his arms around Patrick’s neck, pressing quick kisses to his temple and his ear, which do nothing to help Patrick calm down.

“That’s not—what I meant,” he gets out, mumbled into David’s sweater, letting out a deep breath before tipping his head up to see David.

David rubs his hands quickly over Patrick’s back. “Why don’t you tell me what you meant?” he asks, smirking and fond.

“When we _land,_ ” Patrick says, emphasizing the word this time. “I want to get off with you. I want to keep doing this, I want to—to try and be together. Even though everything’s going to change.”

David’s expression is so, so fragile, and Patrick wants to kiss him so badly but he has to wait, doesn’t want to distract either of them. “You want to be with me?” he asks, his tone neutral, like he’s still fully braced for Patrick to say _no_ in spite of everything he just said.

“For as long as you’ll let me,” Patrick murmurs back, voice steady.

A smile unfurls slowly over David’s features, small and precious and touched, like he kind of can’t believe the words. Patrick only sees it for a second before David’s body goes almost boneless, burying his face in Patrick’s neck. “What if you don’t, though,” he whispers into Patrick’s skin, “What if we get there and you meet some other guy and you realize it was just—this, the lack of options, and you leave me and he’s of course he’s, like, wildly successful so I can’t go anywhere on New Earth without seeing his face and I’ll probably die of a broken heart, and—”

“David,” Patrick says, body shaking a little bit with laughter, even though he knows this is a real fear for David. He can’t help it, it just sounds so absurd. He rubs reassuring little circles into the small of David’s back. “Hey, that’s not gonna happen.”

“You don’t _know,_ ” David says, pulling away again, and he’s smiling a little but there’s anxiety on his face too, and Patrick’s heart aches. “Look, the circumstances we’re in here are—bizarre. And what if, when real life settles in again, you realize this isn’t what you want?”

Patrick thinks for a second, because on some level, it’s the same thing Patrick had been worried about. That the fantastic, idyllic situation that they’re in would make David think twice, say _no, I’m sorry, this was just something to pass the time._

“I don’t know,” he admits, shrugging. “I don’t; I don’t know for sure what’s going to happen when we get there. All I know is that I love you, and you make me feel more real than I’ve ever felt. And I don’t have any plans on changing that, any time soon.”

It feels blisteringly direct to say, but it’s honest, and it’s all he has. It seems to work at least a little bit, because the wrinkle between David’s brows smooths out, and he lets out a deep breath, eyelashes fluttering over his skin.

“Okay,” he says, voice trembling when he opens his eyes. “I mean—more than okay, sorry. I want that too.” Patrick watches his throat as he swallows, voice going low. “I want it more than anything.”

“Okay,” Patrick repeats, eyes tracking all over David’s face, trying to memorize his overwhelmed smile, his bright eyes, the crinkles at the corners of them. The white flowers just out of focus behind him, the way all the green in here hits his skin just right. “Then let’s do it.”

He moves in slowly for a kiss but David beats him there. It’s a terrible kiss, really. They’re both smiling too hard to make it a good one, but it’s one of Patrick’s favorites nonetheless.

Later, they’re at the fancy dinner Patrick had planned, and about halfway through dessert when David drops his fork with a clatter. “Oh my _god_.”

Patrick looks up, alarmed, tries to ask what’s wrong but David is kissing him before he can, up out of his chair and his hands reaching for Patrick’s face. He kisses him fiercely, with heat, and when he pulls away, he’s grinning wider than Patrick’s ever seen. It’s like looking into the sun. Patrick feels dazed.

“You _love_ me,” he says.

“You’re _unbelievable,_ ” Patrick laughs, because it had honestly taken David a good four hours to piece together that Patrick had subtly slipped that in and said it for the first time, but David is clambering into his lap and kissing him again, this time laughing into it.

He breaks away after a second to say it back, the softest, most overcome little breath of an “I love you too” that Patrick has ever heard, and then it’s just a giddy press of lips and foreheads, noses slotted together.

Patrick’s going to go ahead and count that as a favorite too.

 

//

The day they disembark from _Demeter_ is hectic to say the least. Everyone’s feeds are pinging constantly and flying by at a million miles an hour with reminders of arrival times, directions, and so much other information that Patrick can’t look at it without getting overwhelmed. All he can do is know he’s done as much preparing as he can over the last six months, and hope that’s enough.

Everyone was allowed to register for departure times together, so he and David picked one in the early evening, in hopes that by then things would have calmed down a little and they could get off without too much chaos. The majority of everyone’s personal items are being delivered to their residences by tomorrow morning, but they are allowed to take a small carry-on of important things. David spends most of the day packing and then re-packing his bag, all anxious, trembling hands, and Patrick has to take them in his own more than once to press a reassuring kiss to his knuckles.

Still, when they’re actually waiting for the bay door to open, it’s Patrick who can’t seem to stop shaking. It’s only hitting him now how huge this is, which he kind of can’t believe, after everything he’s been through in the past six months.

Six months on the ship. He’s known David for four and a half, been with him for three and a half. With that timeframe in mind it’s even more amazing to think about everything that’s changed, everything he’s left behind, and everything he’s gained in its place.

“Hey,” David says, taking his hand and suddenly Patrick isn’t breathing so fast anymore, because he’s looking up at David. David, who is wearing his futuristic clothes, and looking at Patrick with so much softness he almost can’t bear it, can’t even believe it, the fact that it’s been six months and he is holding hands with the person he used to look at with more than a little bit of awe from across the room. He knows how David takes his coffee now, knows about the time he got scarlet fever as a toddler and didn’t see his parents for three whole days in the hospital, knows about the time he had to help sneak his sister out of Thailand, and about the performance artist who made him cry and featured an audio recording of it in a show at David’s gallery. In turn, David knows about Rachel, he knows how much Patrick worries about his parents back on Earth, and he knows about the things Patrick’s been scared of and hoped for and wrestled with inside for as long as he knew how.

“I love you,” David says, words delicate but comforting. He doesn’t say them often, still looks like he’s not used to the way they feel coming out of his mouth, but Patrick doesn’t mind. It just means he can keep a list in his brain of every single one, play them on repeat when he wants. This is number four.

“I love you too,” Patrick says, his voice breaking on the word, and then the bay door opens.

There are soft, purple-yellow sunsets on New Earth. Patrick had already known this from all the time he spent in the library the first couple months. He’d looked at pictures from the groups that came before, but it’s a different thing to seeing it himself. He doesn’t understand how something can look so foreign and so welcoming all at once, so much like home already. He feels his breath catch.

David squeezes his hand, and Patrick can see their new sky, the dusty-brown ridges of the landscape, the bright, yellow lights of the settlement before them reflected in his eyes. He feels his own eyes sting with emotion.

There is so much ahead of him, he thinks. There is a whole new life to build, a whole new world to learn. He knows it won’t be easy, that there will be adjustments to be made and parts of the life he’s left behind that he still may miss, may still uncover unexpected things to mourn.

But here they are, with a blank slate spread out before them, having found each other in the craziest of circumstances, flung between worlds. They carry heartbreak and baggage and fear. But together, they’re growing something too—something small but hopeful, optimistic, something that already has the potential to feel like family, like home.

David turns to look at him, equally moved and overcome, and Patrick swears there is nothing more important.

So just like that, he and David step into their brand-new daylight, and he lets the rest go.

 

//

_am i me through geography? / a face collapsed through entropy / i can hardly speak / and when i try it's nothing but a squeak / on the video / living room for small / if you can't survive, just try_

//

**Author's Note:**

> Full mix for this fic is [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6zClrFjO75uDpZ4mxRJpz9?si=SszLON9AS2-1Kb8OQoEh-g). Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> As always, you can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/wardowedidit), which I mostly use to scream about tenderness.


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